Dauntless Sedition
by forget-the-alias
Summary: Tori Antoinette Wendell is a feisty barwench who has led a very rich life. She has met the one and only Capt. Jack Sparrow, fought with pirates, and been captured by Commodore Norrington, who is bringing her to the gallows for treason. Set after POTC 1.
1. Leaving Tortuga

**Dauntless Sedition**

**Chapter One**

It was a full moon in Tortuga that night when I boarded a ship that was set to sail for the shores of England. There was going to be pillaging and plunder beyond all imagining, if the men who were so bound to its planks and boards were men of their word.

I had finished a mug of ale bought for me by a rogue who made it quite clear he expected something in return. Instead, I clung to the arm of the captain who just happened by, claiming I had already bartered passage with him. In truth, I hadn't, but that would come later.

"Why, hello lassie," the captain said when I magically appeared at his elbow.

"Hello, captain," I said, smiling at him.

"Is there something ye be needing, missy?" he asked. His breath hit my face; he smelled of rum and tobacco.

"Why yes, captain, there is," I said, sidling closer to him. "I've been in Tortuga a trite too long, if you catch my drift. I'm sure to be a few drops short of a mug of ale if I stay here longer."

"Ah, I see," the man said, nodding. He looked at me more closely. "So what ye be needing is passage off this island."

"Can you help me?" I asked, leaning closer to him. The stench of rum and tobacco was familiar to me, somewhat like a second home. "I have no money, but I am a good hand on deck, despite what all men say about women being bad luck on a ship."

The captain was stroking his gray stubble of a beard with forefinger and thumb now as he peered at me. "It _is_ mighty bad luck," he conceded slowly.

"And yet if you should hit any bad weather, another to help with the sails would certainly behoove you." Time to whip out the big guns. "There are, of course, other forms of collateral, captain."

It took him a moment; that made me think better of him, knowing his mind wasn't always on one thing—or perhaps I should say two: wenches and beer. He wasn't as bad as the man who was stalking me like a wild animal for having paid my ale.

"Sea life is not easy, lass," the captain said. "Could you handle it?"

I glanced at the rowdy, everyday turmoil that was Tortuga Tavern, and also at the darkly shadowed man who sat glaring swords at me.

I turned to the captain with a smirk and gave the reply, "Hand me anything, captain, and I'll make the sails turn a better direction for you."

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

It was drizzling when I boarded the slippery plank off the dock where the ship lay lolling side to side in the dark waters. I had a mighty respect for the waters; as easily as they could drown a man, a ship could be sucked under or broken in half by tides of massive strength, and no amount of swordplay or wrestling arms could stop it.

Yea, the life of the seas was a dangerous one indeed. I had experienced enough rough waters in my time to know it was not a smooth ride. But it was the danger that made life so wonderful to savor.

There was a fair amount of grumbling and stabbing looks at my boarding the boat; men turn into hostile creatures when their life is threatened by superstition. I gave them all smiles and hoisted my skirts as I climbed aboard, showing more than just ankles.

Within minutes the crew, though still somewhat drunk, pulled up the sails and lifted the anchor. The wind meanwhile picked up and the rain fell down in sheets.

"Go to my cabin!" the captain yelled over the howling winds.

I grabbed one of the ropes and shook my head fast. I was already soaking wet—what would be the harm?

The ship peeled roughly from the dock and bounded into the rougher waters. I grabbed onto a barrel to steady myself. The captain shook his head and turned away. Smart man.

"Hard to starboard!" he yelled above the screaming gale. "We'll beat her yet!"

My skirts were heavy and my bodice permitted no easy breathing, so I ripped the upper garment off and waded over to the men struggling to tie down the provisions. My hands were busy tying knots while my fingers grew numb and stiff with cold.

The captain had not been beaten by the storm as of the moment—but he certainly had not beaten the storm. And, as luck would have it, the seas were growing worse, with the skies following in rapid succession.

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

It took what seemed hours for the storm to calm. The seas remained rocky, but the ship was no longer near capsizing. The rain had lightened slightly, but it did no good, as all were drenched.

I squenched a sea of water from my skirt and shook my head like a dog drying wet fur.

"I swear, it's the girl that cap'n's got a fancy on…we nearly capsized…she'll be bringing about all sorts a terrible luck!"

I searched the floors and found my ruined bodice. I bent to pick it up, but as my hand slid around the material, a boot appeared before my eyes.

"You'll be the death of us all, wench," man said.

I straightened and glared at his ugly face.

"You'll be the death of yourself if you don't man the riggings," I replied, cool as a winter breeze. "And did you not see the storm began before we boarded?"

The man might have been ready to run me through, it wouldn't have surprised me in the least, but the captain appeared next second.

"Joseph! Back to work with yeh!" he yelled. Joseph looked me up and down the way that would make any decent woman squirm. I did not. He left, leaving the stench of a bad man behind.

I wrung the bodice between my hands, water sopping out on the deck. I looked up and my eyes connected with the captain's. It was an understanding—he was a good man, and I very nearly had gotten myself hurt. He would not stand for it.

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

I busied myself by clearing the deck of scattered barrels and other rubble. I managed to lug a whole barrel by my oneself, but two was just too much for me. I was offered help by a pirate who was more interested in my heaving bosom than heaving the barrel. I gave him a raucous smile and thanked him graciously, allowing him to lift it by himself.

The pirate had just taken hold of another barrel that I intended to help haul when the voice came from above.

"Ship of the Royal navy headed to port, Cap'n! She's turning our way!"

Everybody looked to the captain.

"Aye!" he roared. "Raise the sails! Peedy, get to the wheel! Outrun us that ship or I'll run ye through before we ever get to the gallows!"

The race was on. "All hands on deck!" the captain bellowed.

I ran to the side of the ship and gazed out over the waters. The ship headed toward us was huge, and gaining fast. At this pace, it would catch up to us in a matter of minutes, unless the wind turned in our favor.

The captain appeared at my side. "If ye can make the sails turn in a better direction, missy, now would be a good time to do it."

Perhaps I was bad luck after all.

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

Within minutes the Navy ship was approaching so close that I could make out faces of the sailors. Crisp, red coats, perfect hats and all that. They had already raised the warning flag, pirates this be your last warning.

The captain did not give up hope, however. "Load the cannons. It's too late to outrun them. They want a fight, and we'll give 'em one!"

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

Chaos erupted. The ship, the Dauntless, fired upon the sailing bucket that was our boat, rocking the ship and causing every man to stumble. I grabbed onto the mast and stared as the Royal Navy laid seize to the ship.

"Lassie!" the captain yelled. I searched for him. "Get out of harm's way!"

Next moment there were planks sliding onto the sides of our ship and navy men were swarming all over the boat.

"Take prisoners!" one of the men yelled.

"Run, lassie!" the captain shouted. I searched quickly round for him.

I found him, fighting one of the soldiers. I started forward.

There was a loud thud behind me, and I turned to find myself face to face with one of the navy men with a dead pirate at my feet. It was the friendly one. A pity, that…

Without thought, I ducked and grabbed the dead man's sword. The navy man looked surprised, and I took him at that advantage; he fell the next moment, sword in his belly.

There was a loud crack of thunder; the ship listed to the left suddenly, violently. It was then I noticed the skies were growing dark.

"Show no mercy!" one of the pirates screamed, running past me. Someone grabbed my shoulder and I spun, bringing the handle of the sword crashing down on his head. The man crumpled at my feet. A pirate next to me parried with another soldier and nicked him several times. I stabbed his opponent through the back and down he went.

Thunder boomed. The skies opened up and poured buckets of rain. Within seconds we were drenched, and I could barely see a foot in front of me.

Another man rushed at me. The deck suddenly tilted, putting me directly in his path. With all my strength, I leapt out of his way and turned as he passed, slashing him in the back and ruining that pretty red coat.

My hair streamed into my face; I felt if I opened my mouth I would drown. Exciting. The skies were black as night now. I backed up fast, and bumped into something. I whirled and found myself facing a man so overly dressed he had to be the captain, or commodore, or something similar.

He looked surprised; don't they all? I acted swift and surely; I thrust forward and nearly gutted him—but he spun out of the way in time and while doing so, swung his sword in an arc about him so by the time I had lifted my sword to block, the force with which it slammed into me sent me staggering back. It seemed my arm went numb. I fell back, landing hard on the wet deck, rain spilling into my eyes.

I saw him coming at the last possible moment; I rolled and his foot missed me. He'd been aiming to kick my sword from my hand. Some of my hair was ripped out, and I cursed loudly, but didn't let it preoccupy me.

The commodore stared at me, poised; the rain poured hard all around us, the ship rocked steeply, and I stared back.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said, and I heard his deep voice just barely over the howling winds and sounds of crashing waves.

"Ridiculous?" I yelled back at him. It would actually surprise me if he could do little more than read my lips. "Forgive me, commodore, but I'm not fancying dying today. Perhaps another time."

There was one advantage I had against the pride of the royal navy, that being he did not want to kill me. That he had not gone to run me through when I fell showed me that. This man was too much of a gentleman to cut me open. I hope he didn't expect me to return the favor.

He did not. I lunged at him and he was ready; I was blocked and sent sprawling on my back yet again, this time knocking my head hard against a barrel. The last thing I found myself thinking, as the world slowly grew dark, was that I hoped I wouldn't drown in the rain.


	2. Meeting the Commodore Properly

**Warning: Try not to get confused what with the constant switching of present, and the past. Flashbacks with always involve either Patty, Teresa, or both.**

Chapter Two

I opened my eyes slowly, as my lids were heavy. Everything was so blurry. I went to concentrate on some little bit of my vision, but that was when the throbbing began.

"Bloody navy," I whispered, reaching up to cradle my head.

My hand was stopped short. There was clinking. I snapped my head around, perhaps the most idiotic thing I could have done. Lights exploded before my eyes, and I fell onto my side. Lying there, I slowly became aware of myself. I had been sitting with my back against a wall, and the reason I could not rub my tender head and attend to my horrible pain was…

Slowly, I opened my eyes; deliberately, very deliberately, I sat up, straightened so my back was once again against the wall. Then, still slowly, I turned my head and gazed at my hands.

Manacles were clamped to my wrists, attached to thick chains, which were crudely but effectively nailed into the beams of the wall, which bowed out slightly, meaning…I was on a ship.

And apparently it was not a pirate ship.

I peered around the room, taking in the surroundings. There was a desk, a bookcase, and not much else. Judging by the finery, this was the commodore's cabin. Assuming I had been captured by the navy and not another band of rowdy pirates, of course. Yo ho.

"I see you're awake."

I jerked in surprise and banged my head against the wall. I cursed loudly.

"Quite honestly, I would prefer it if you were still unconscious," the man, the commodore, said, as he stepped away from the small window in the corner. I could not believe I had missed him standing there.

Ignoring the pain throbbing on my already poor skull, I looked to the commodore angrily. "If luck had it any other way, you would have been the one who knocked his head," I replied.

The commodore smirked, that arrogant expression of all high-class snobs. "If luck had had it, not skill."

I moved forward instinctively and was stopped short by the chains. "Who do you think you be, parading around in your fancy finery like you're better than I am?"

The commodore looked down at me with haughtiness inked all over his face. He leaned down slightly, hands clasped behind his back, and replied, "Someone who is better than you."

He straightened. I glared at him.

Still wearing that knowing smirk, the commodore walked to his desk, pulling a spotted feather from the inkwell, and began writing something.

The thought occurred to me a few seconds afterward. "Where are the others?" I asked, staring at his back.

"Your fellow pirates went down with their ship," the commodore replied, still scratching with his quill. As if this were of no consequence.

I stared. Finally, I collected myself. "What?" I demanded.

"Are you hard of hearing as well?" he asked, still writing.

"The ship went down?" I asked. "And everyone on it? They went down with it?"

"That is exactly what I just said," he replied.

"Even the captain?" I asked. "Did you take no prisoners?"

"If we had, they would have been locked in the cell below deck," the commodore said, finally turning to face me. "As the cell is completely empty as of the moment, it's safe to assume none of your friends survived."

Then the captain…the good man was dead. And all the others had been swept away in the waves. And to the man before me this was just less scourge for him to hang.

Speaking of which…

"Why did everyone sink to the depths of Davy Jones' locker and I wind up on this cursed ship?" I asked.

The commodore surveyed me, then said, "Yes, that is unfortunate."

I hated this man already. I met his arrogant gaze and said, "Why am I not in the cell below deck, _captain_?"

"That is _Commodore _Norrington," he corrected me. Vain peacock; may as well have been pluming his damn feathers before me. "And you're not there because the men agreed that the conditions down there are not for…a lady, not even one like you."

I raised my chin and smiled meanly. "Flattered, captain."

"That's _Commodore_."

We glared at each other for a good few minutes.

"All right, _commodore_," I said, stressing the word. "What do you intend to do with me? I'm all tied up at your leisure. Is that the way the winds blow for ye?"

He understood me perfectly, and I was very pleased to see just the slightest bit of fleeting surprise in his eyes before he regained his composure.

"You were found in the company of pirates, Miss…?" He stopped.

"Wendell," I snapped. "Tori Antoinette Wendell."

"Well, Miss Wendell, you were found in the company of pirates, and aided them against His Majesty's navy." Commodore Norrington straightened out the papers on his desk and then looked to me. "That is high treason, Miss Wendell. You're headed for the gallows."

"I'll be sure to thank the executioner for doing his civic duty," I said smoothly.

"This is not a game, Miss Wendell," the commodore said, stressing the words.

"Oh, indeed it is, Captain," I said. "You enjoy playing it just as much as the next pirate…what else would you be doing on the seas, battling in the midst of a storm?"

"Protecting the people of the crown by ridding the world of your kind," the commodore replied coolly. He stepped forward. "Miss Wendell, while you may consider yourself a lady, I do not, and therefore whatever you say bears no relevance with me."

"Oh, so now ye be saying that you would listen to a _real _lady?" I laughed. "Sounds like the king made a change in society." I leaned forward quickly with interest and asked very seriously, "Have you ever met the king?"

"I see it is pointless talking to you," the commodore said. He still had his hands behind his back. I'm sure if he kept them there long enough he wouldn't be able to use his arms. He walked back to his desk.

"Is this your room I'm chained in?" I asked.

He glanced over his shoulder at me. "Yes."

"Now tell me: what immeasurable evil could I have done to deserve _that_?"

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

The rocking and lulling of the ship put me to sleep—it was that and the knock to the head, I suspect. Either way, I closed my eyes, and when I found myself opening them again, the light in the room had dimmed to a nightly blue. This time I carefully looked over my surroundings and found I was alone in the room, which left me to my thoughts.

Well, this was certainly an interesting dilemma. I had condemned myself to the gallows, and to make matters the worst I was stuck in the office of a priggish commodore until we reached dear old England again.

Ah, well, at least I had my memories to keep me company. What would Patricia have said about this? No doubt something comic and witty that I would find unfathomable.

She had once beaten a man senseless when he expressed very strong interest in her. When I had tiptoed over the drunken body to ask her what he'd done, she'd replied, "He smelled funny."

"You do know that every man here smells?" I asked, still holding up my skirts to prevent them touching the man.

She shrugged. "Oh well."

Of course, there had been one man Patty did not think smelled bad at all. Nor did he look bad. Perhaps that was why she never liked any of the men at the pubs…she was comparing them to him.

Then again, Patty was rather eccentric. That made the two quite compatible. I swear, I'm sure I have never met a man as unusual and eccentric as Captain Jack Sparrow.

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

It was night and the moon hung fat and silver in the sky. If one bothered to look, there were stars, small dots in contrast to the bigger moon. I myself was busy drinking a mug of ale by me oneself at a table while loud rumpus went on around me.

Another mug banged down upon my table and I looked up. Patty sat down in the chair across from me, shaking her head.

"Allow me to guess—another one that smells funny?" I asked over my drink.

"They all smell that way," she replied, taking a good long sip of ale. Again, she banged the mug down. "No, this one smelled like fish."

I was about to open my mouth to ask how that was any different, then remembered Patty did not like fish. The woman would not touch a thing that had scales upon it.

"Aye," I said. "Fish is not a good smell."

We sat in silence for a long moment. Then, we were in Tortuga—us being the only two who were silent. Finally I raised my mug.

"To non-smelly men," I said.

"Aye!" Patty said loudly, smacking her mug against mine.

We finished our drinks and walked out of the pub, making sure to skirt past the fallen drunks and couples. I passed through the threshold unheeded, but a man entering bumped into Patty.

"Oh, terribly sorry," the man said. He sounded rather drunk, which was interesting since men usually sound drunk coming out of a pub, not going in.

I turned to take in full view of him. Patty stopped and stared at him.

"You smell good," she said.

The man stopped, turned on his heel and looked at her, blinking. "Ah," he finally said. "Well, if you're that hungry perhaps I could offer you lovely ladies a bite to eat then?"

"Make it more than a bite and you're on," I replied.

Patty was still glancing over the man, taking in his attire, long hair, dark eyes, and tall, slim stature. He was looking over her equally curiously. I nudged her with my elbow.

"What? Oh, yes, that would be nice." Patty smiled at the man.

"And what, perchance, would be the titles of you two fine ladies?" he asked, stepping forward. He seemed reasonable enough, but the movement was drunken.

"My name is Tori," I replied. "This is—"

"I'm Patricia," Patty cut in, as if she hadn't heard me speaking. "Patty, if you like."

"Flattered."

"And who, sir, are you?" I asked.

"Who am I?" he asked, putting a hand to his chest. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

"A captain, eh?" Patty asked, looking at him with even more interest.

The name struck a familiar note. And then it came to me.

"_The_ captain Jack Sparrow?" I asked; for the life of me, I was actually shocked. This man was a living legend and a testament to the old-fashioned term 'pirate.'

"So you _have_ heard of me," Jack said, apparently pleased.

"I haven't," Patty said, looking between the two of us.

"What about that food you were going to buy us, _Captain_?" I asked, ignoring her.

Captain Jack looked blank for a moment. Then he blinked and straightened. "Right." He waggled his finger, not in any particular direction. "This way, ladies." He bowed ostentatiously, and we stepped past him, sharing looks of equal amusement.

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

The door opened. I raised my head. The commodore stepped in, fully garbed with hat, wig, and all. I wondered if the man slept at all.

He looked at me only a moment before he turned and shut the door, taking off his hat and placing it on a rack.

The silence was not to my liking. Then, neither was being chained to the commodore's ship.

Commodore Norrington turned, and it was then I realized he held a plate in one hand. He walked over and stopped before me, appraising me. Finally he knelt and placed the plate maybe a good foot away from my knees. He stood again and walked off to his desk.

"Is this gruel my food?" I asked.

"Yes," the commodore replied, no change in his chilling façade.

"Well, tell me then, Captain, how I am supposed to eat it? Do I put my face in the plate and inhale?"

He turned and looked at me. It was not a pleasant look. Good.

"That's Commodore," he replied coolly. "And I believe that is your problem."

"Do I have no rights under the British crown? Is this not cruel torture and unjust punishment?" I asked.

"Actually, Miss Wendell, it is not." The commodore walked over to me and bent slightly, hands behind his back yet again. "And don't you think it's rather hypocritical to expect His Majesty's laws to protect you, when you refuse to obey them?"

"Wouldn't want to become one of the savages, 'ay?" I asked, smirking at him. "Treating me like a lady and all this. I'd rather be dead than stuck in this blasted room with you!"

"My sentiments exactly," the commodore replied, each word icy. We glared at each other.

"Then let me go," I said finally, after the silence had stretched. "And I'll be of no more trouble to ye."

The commodore actually smiled. It changed his entire countenance, it did, and that, as small as it seemed, rattled me.

"I'm to believe you will leave here reformed and a loyal subject to the Crown?" he asked, amused.

"I said nothing about 'reforming,'" I replied.

Tired of bending, the commodore took a knee before me and peered into my eyes. I had expected a good many things from him, but not that. It unnerved me to be looking into his eyes while he was looking into mine. It was sort of intimate, somehow.

"Where are you from, Miss Wendell?" the commodore asked.

"Tortuga," I said. "What does it matter to you?"

"Because your use of the English language suggests you have had at least a decent education." The smile had slipped back into the perpetual frown. "You were not born in Tortuga, Miss Wendell."

"Are ye asking me or telling me?" I demanded.

He stood and went back over to his desk. By the now the room had softened to a dark blue that made it hard to see. The commodore lit a candle. Three cheers for common sense.

"If you be so _civilized_, captain," I said, spitting the word out, "then tell me how can ye hang a woman before a crowd?"

He paused, glancing slightly over his shoulder as though he were about to answer. But he did not. I pressed my advantage.

"I'm willing to bet you've seen your fair share of men and women stepping down to their deaths," I sneered. "Each time before a crowd of gathered elite, happy to see the end of yet another 'pirate' whose sins are no greater than theirs…men and women who are of the same flesh of blood but so enjoy a good public execution. Some men are good pirates. And some pirates are good men. And yet they all wind up swinging in the wind. They've all died with so many eyes on them, unarmed and unworthy. And they all have the same person to be thankful for it."

I watched him, and I knew he felt my eyes on his form. For the longest time he said nothing, and I sat in chains, waiting.

When he finally spoke this time, he didn't turn to look to me.

"They have only themselves to blame, Miss Wendell." Here he turned and met my gaze full on. "As do you."

He walked out of the room.


	3. Discovering Me

**Chapter 3**

Bright light hit my eyes and I groaned. Pain shot through my skull, and I squinted, lifting my lids to the light of a glorious morning. A glorious morning that unfortunately I could not enjoy, as I was chained inside a damp pirate-hunting ship. It was a very nice way to wake.

BANG!!! Pots, or something of the sort, clanged and rattled.

I shut my eyes, trying to ignore the pain that shot through my head. I had really knocked myself good, but not as good as I was going to knock the man making that racket.

More clattering and clinking, probably soft to other ears, but not my tender head. Clink, clank, rattle, rattle, BANG.

"STOP IT!" I yelled at the door. "Damn ye for making all that noise!!!"

The door opened and the commodore stepped in. We looked at each other. It wasn't an unusual moment between us, save for the awkward silence.

"Do you have a problem with our cook, Miss Wendell?" he asked coolly.

"The cook I have no problem with, nor the food he's preparing," I replied. "It's the racket he's making! It's hurting my head!"

More clanging from outside the now open door, causing me more lovely pain. I went to put my hands over my ears but was harshly reminded I was chained.

Commodore Norrington watched me for a good long time as the banging went on. I opened my mouth to yell something at him, but he turned his head towards the threshold and called out, "Mr. Smith—I would appreciate it if you could keep the racket down to a minimum."

There was a long silence. Finally, a high-pitched man's voice replied, "Yes, commodore, sir!"

I snorted loudly. The commodore's eyes moved slowly from the door to me.

"I could allow him to continue," the commodore said, not once losing his composure. He must have learned to master his anger in his early years, and that was something neither I nor Patty had an inkling about.

"If you want gratitude, Commodore Norrington, _sir_," I said, "perhaps I should remind you why I am tied to this ship heading for the gallows in the first place."

He appraised me a moment. He was pretending to be nonchalant but it showed, oh did it show.

"Perhaps I should remind you why I didn't run you through while you lay unconscious, Miss Wendell," he replied, each word as cold as a winter breeze.

I glared at him, and I only blinked once.

"Because _I _am not a pirate," he said.

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

Trying to sleep on a ship without collapsing first from exhaustion is an impossibility, and before any amount of hours had passed since my encounter with the commodore, I was yanking at my chains, trying to break them. Foolish, yes, but I was not having a good day.

Finally about midday I decided that I was in a right foul mood, and that, because I was going to die anyway in a matter of weeks, I would have to do something to lift my spirits.

"THE CAPTAIN IS A BLOODY USELESS MORON!!! HE IS A DISGRACE TO THE BLOODY ROYAL NAVY AND WEARS A BLOODY RIDICULOUS WHITE WIG!"

I took a deep breath and belted out more.

"THE CAPTAIN IS A BLOODY ARROGANT PRIGGISH BOOR AND HIS MAJESTY CAN KISS MY FEET FOR ALL I CARE ABOUT THE BLOODY CROWN!"

No one came below deck. Apparently I had to scream louder.

"AND THE BLOODY COOK MAKES FOOD THAT TASTES LIKE SWILL!"

I stopped there, breathing hard, and waited.

No one came, but I knew they'd heard. And that made me feel much better.

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

"You say you've sailed through the Isla de Muerta?" Patty asked our gracious host. I was on my second mug of ale, and Patty was on her first. She had been too fascinated with Sparrow and his good smell to take a sip.

Sparrow, however, had gotten through seven mugs already.

"Oh yes," Captain Jack Sparrow said, leaning drunkenly back on his stool. "Several times, actually," he added.

Patty continued looking at him with disbelief. "_The _Isla de Muerta?"

"The one and only," Jack replied.

"You have the compass that doesn't point north?" I asked.

Jack swiveled in his seat to look at me, since we'd both sat on either side of him. It took him a while to take me into focus. One mug too many.

"I didn't know that was common knowledge," he said, looking at me suspiciously.

"You're a legend, Captain," I said, raising an eyebrow flirtatiously. "We know _everything_ about you."

I patted his cheek.

"I don't," Patty said from behind him.

"Tell me, captain," I said, leaning forward. "Is it true that the ship you once commandeered is now cursed?"

He blinked, again trying to bring me into focus. He took a moment to answer. "Well, if it is, then it's a good thing I'm not on it, 'eh?"

"Aye," I said. He went to take another drink and I gently put my hand over the brim of his cup, then slid my hand down over his to prevent him lifting it.

"So is the captain looking for a new crew then?" I asked, voice very soft.

I literally heard growling coming from behind the captain.

"It's all right, Patty, you've staked your claim," I said to the tuft of hair I saw behind Jack's shoulder.

Jack moved back on his stool and swiveled so I could see her. He looked at her very worriedly.

"It's fine, Patty was a wolf in a past life," I said, grabbing my mug and taking a large sip.

"Then I hope her bark is worse than her bite," he replied, still eyeing her suspiciously.

She gave him a wide smile, releasing all her charms. "Depends on what you like, _Captain _Jack," she said, voice coy. She raised her mug and, though it took him a moment to catch on and raise his, they toasted each other and took hearty sips, keeping their eyes on one another.

The man would be hooked now; the ship was cannoned, and now it would sink.

I remember watching him as he spoke to Patty, watching his lips move as he spoke, his deep eyes as he glanced to me and smirked in that devilish pirate-y way of his. I watched the candlelight dancing over his profile, his tongue when he licked his lips, and thought, _My God, here is a man worth waiting for_.

I opened my eyes and said very loudly, "Is there any place for a lady to have some privacy?"

There was movement out of the corner of my eye. I snapped my head around and received a good pounding in my head for it; it seemed I was not completely healed as of the moment. Apparently I was not the only one in the room—the commodore had joined me at some point. Which meant I must have nodded off.

"Do you need something, Miss Wendell?" the commodore asked, meeting my eyes. He acted as though my outburst had not just happened.

"Privies," I said flatly. "I'm assuming this ship has one. Or am I not allowed to be unchained?"

Bold, very bold, but when you have to go, well…

The commodore surveyed me blandly for a time. I stared at him.

"This is not a good time for ye to decide slowly," I said with some urgency.

"All right," the commodore said, walking over to me. He took a brass key from his pocket.

"Too cautious to leave it alone in the room with me?" I asked, smirking. "I'm flattered you think I'm that clever."

"Don't be," he said, kneeling to unlock the manacles. "I keep it in my pocket to avoid losing it."

"Oh…and here I thought maybe you just enjoyed putting your key in the lock," I said, smiling very innocently at him.

With his face barely a foot away and his hand on my wrist, he turned his head so we met gazes. He did not look amused. But this was the first time I was in such close proximity with the commodore, and I was a little taken aback.

From a distance, even a few feet, I hadn't noticed his face, not really. The wig took up all my attention. But this close, only a foot away, his features suddenly became much clearer, and I saw his eyes were a dark green. His eyebrows were black, and his lips, though pale, looked soft. He was a young man, not much older than myself I guessed.

"Your hair is not white," I said.

I believe for those few moments I actually took him off his guard. He looked at me suspiciously. "Of course it isn't."

"Then why do you wear a wig?" I asked, moving closer to him. I suspected it would make him uncomfortable. I was correct, but he didn't move. His eyes swept my face, and when they landed back on my eyes, he replied, "Why don't we worry about your problem for now, Miss Wendell?"

"So you admit it's a problem then?" I asked, pouncing on his wording mistake.

He turned away then and unlocked the right manacle, then the left. He stood up, hand clamped round my wrist, pulling me rather roughly to my feet.

"I trade one shackle for another, I suppose," I said, and allowed myself to be led to the privies.

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

Afterwards, I requested from behind the door that the commodore tell me where there was a decent place on the ship to clean up.

"There's water and soap, and a bucket in the room beside mine," he replied through the wood. I pressed my palms flat against the grains and rested my forehead against it.

"May I use it, commodore?" I asked.

There was a long silence on the other side of the door. The wood felt cool on my skin and I closed my eyes.

"The problem, Miss Wendell, is I cannot take your word that you will not attempt to escape."

"Ah, we be bringing ethics into this, now?" I asked through the wood, letting the scorn into my voice. "Well then, I have a solution to both our problems, captain. I'll bathe, and you stay on lookout in the room while I do."

I wanted to see his face when I said that. If I could make him blush, I would go the gallows a happy woman.

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

We came to an agreement. I would bathe, and the commodore would stand watch outside the door.

I stripped down to my undergarments and splashed around the cold water in the bucket. The bar of soap caused little bubbles to form, and I used those to wash my face and arms.

I cupped my hands and lifted the cool water from the bucket, staring at my distorted reflection. It had been a while since I had bothered to look at myself. I'd been away from the sea far too long.

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

The water in the barrel rippled. Patty dunked her head in and held it there for a good thirty seconds.

"Patty?" I asked, about to take her arm. I doubted she would hear me with her ears underwater.

She pulled her head out the next moment and flung her wet hair back, splattering me like a midsummer's rain. I closed my eyes so as not to be blinded by the downpour.

"My God that man is amazing," she said, dripping wet.

"If he made you that warm, apparently so," I said, smirking.

She turned me. "He's like a good mug of ale and an amazing pirate all rolled into one."

"Only problem being you can't be drinking a pirate," I replied. "But there be other ways to consume a man like that."

"I don't know if he'll be coming back," she said suddenly, looking to me as though this hadn't crossed her mind before.

"Don't worry," I replied, giving her a wagging figure like Captain Jack's. "While you were busy flirting with the captain and clinging to his lovely form before he left, I offered to buy him a good amount of ale."

Patty smiled very happily at me.

"You can bet all your booty he'll be coming back for more," I said, "and I'm not referring to the ale."

A pig snorted. I didn't bother to glance at it.

"And what be ye doing, hanging round the pigs?"

I looked in surprise at Patty. She looked at me, and then we both looked into the darkness that was broken by lanterns and torches.

"Teresa Malama Brites!" I said, peering at the slim, exotic figure stepping gracefully nearer to us. "Is that you, girl?"

"Teresa!" Patty yelled. "Last I saw you, you were headed on a ship to the orient."

"Well, I'm back now," Teresa replied, wrapping us both into a bone-breaking hug.

When she released us, Patty told her the exciting news all in a rush of breath, and a good amount of the summary included how much she enjoyed the Captain's smell.

"He smells like rum," I corrected in between her narrative.

When she finished, Teresa appeared rather impressed. "Captain Jack Sparrow?" she asked.

Patty nodded, raising her eyebrows for emphasis.

"_The_ Captain Jack Sparrow?" Teresa prodded.

"Does everyone know him but me?" Patty asked. She sounded somewhat upset.

"Most likely," I replied flippantly, then smiled when she glared at me. "Ye be taking the jest too seriously, Patty."

She muttered, sulking, "It's not my fault…"

I turned to Teresa. "And how has the sea been treating ye?"

"Come, then," she said, putting one arm around each of our shoulders. "Let me tell you over a couple of mugs."

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

"I'm done!" I yelled at the door.

"Are you dressed?" the commodore asked through the wood. Bland, his tone was very bland.

I wrapped a piece of cloth around me oneself to dry, and replied slyly, "That depends on what you be visualizing, _captain_."

There was no answer. Dead woman or not, I was feeling much better.

I tiptoed over to the door and turned the knob. It stuck. I yanked it open.

The commodore stood there, seeing me in naught but my not very revealing undergarments, turned away immediately.

"You're not dressed," he said very stiffly.

"I'll never dry, _captain_," I said, "if put my clothes on over this now." I slammed the door shut. The commodore still refused to look directly at me, but he was watching from the corner of us, perhaps to ensure I didn't attack him.

"Now," I said, sweet as a bee's honey, "I suppose you'll be wanting to chain me up?"

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

The water's grew muddy after that. The fate that lay ahead of me crashed down round me on all sides, and my wrists grew sore, my arms went numb. The shackles were making me claustrophobic. I had forced my mind to keep off it, but by the time I saw the setting sun through the thick window I was hungry, thirsty, and wanting to be out of this mess. Whatever had kept me afloat before this moment had sunk to the depths of Davy Jones' Locker, dragging me down with it.

I waited. The sun went down behind the seas and I waited.

The door opened. I glared at the commodore as he stepped in; but he was carrying a plate, at least. That meant food, and as my belly was rumbling like a mad animal I wasn't going to waste words on the commodore until it was resting happily in my stomach.

He stepped in, watching me with those green eyes of his, and placed the plate next to my legs. I stared at it.

"Do I be needing to feed me oneself with my foot?" I asked, not looking from the plate.

"You managed to eat before, Miss Wendell," the commodore said, and I could have sworn I heard a sigh in his voice.

"Yea, like an animal with my face in the plate," I replied, then spat, "Truly thank ye for that, _captain_."

He had been turned when I spoke, but he stopped and looked back at me, right in the eyes. "You're welcome," he said, matching my sarcasm.

I stared at my plate of food, if a person could call it that. Either way, it was calling my name and I wanted it desperately. However, the commodore showed no sign of leaving the room, and, pirate as I may be, I was not about to eat like a pig in front of him; call it pride if you will.

The commodore picked up a feather quill and commenced writing with it. The scratching of quill on parchment was all to be heard in the quiet

"So what have ye against pirates, anyway?" I asked, eyes still on the food. My belly rumbled.

"They're thieves, murderers, and dishonorable brutes, Miss Wendell," he replied. "They are disloyal to the crown and are so subject to sedition—"

"Tori," I said suddenly.

He turned slightly to look to me, a question in his eyes. "What?" he asked.

"Tori is my name," I said. "I don't care for the gentleman's talk, _captain_."

The commodore kept his eyes on me a few more seconds; then the corner of his mouth tugged up slightly and I realized my error.

"Of course you wouldn't, _Miss Wendell_," he replied. "But as I am a gentleman I shall address you in no other fashion."

"Oh, please, don't bother so on my account," I replied, my tone dipped in honey and sugar. It was far too late to paddle backwards, but I could perhaps row the boat into better waters.

The commodore appraised me. "You should eat your food, Miss Wendell," he said.

"Like a pig eating from a trough," I replied. "Now see, captain, you are not a gentleman after all."

"And you would know the etiquette of a gentleman?" he asked.

"More than you know," I answered, giving a good yank on my chains for emphasis.

"Apparently, as you went from saying 'ye' to the proper term 'you,'" Commodore Norrington replied flippantly.

I stared at him.

"It seems to be that I was correct in assuming you have more education than the common pirate," he said.

"Education is what ye make of it," I replied, trying to ignore the grievous error I had made. "It's usually wasted on people like ye ownself."

"I see," he replied, walking over to me, hands clasped behind his back once more. He leaned down slightly so as to meet my gaze. He smirked slightly "And it was not wasted on you."

"At least I learned to think for me oneself," I replied heatedly, moving forward even in my chains. "What of ye, who is so muddled he sees himself as a gentleman when he brings men and women to die before a crowd of fan-waving, wig-wearing prigs who fancy themselves less barbaric then we." My face was not more than a solid foot from the commodore's as I spoke this. "Pardon me while I laugh at ye, and choke on me own laughter."

"You led yourself here, Miss Wendell," the commodore replied intensely. "You do have the intelligence to realize that every rash action you made led you to the hangman's noose?"

There was a small bout of silence, in which I looked at the commodore's green eyes and then into them. A mean smile crept onto my lips.

"And what led _ye _here, captain?" I asked. "What rash actions did ye take that the king himself trusted ye with the _honorable_ task of killing murderers?"

His gaze faltered a moment, and something changed in his expression. It was a short dilly of a moment, but I saw it nonetheless.

The commodore straightened abruptly, preventing me clearly seeing his reaction.

"Ah, so the captain _does_ have reason for being here," I said.

"My reasons, Miss Wendell," he said rather icily, "are my own."


	4. My Two Stories Intertwine

**Chapter 4**

Commodore Norrington departed from the room not soon after and I indulged my aching belly with a few bites that left the plate as clean as it had started, if not cleaner. With my hunger dulled, I was left to mull over what had been said, or, more like what had not.

It was what he deserved for being so clever…he had picked up the minor discrepancy of my using 'you' and not 'ye.' Had he truly been paying that close attention to my words?

Of course, the man _did_ claim to be a gentleman. He was smart, I had to hand him that, but that would not go unchallenged. He fancied himself a clever one? Well, Commodore Norrington had never met the likes before of Tori Antoinette Wendell.

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

"So where have you been?" I asked Teresa over the table and a good-sized mug of ale.

"Yea, and don't leave out any details," Patty added, raising her mug.

"Aye, my lassies, that I shan't," Teresa said with a grand smile. The girl was beautiful as it was, but the smile was the sinker for most men. A touch of angel, a touch of devil; it was a fine combination.

"Ah, there be the smile of a happy woman," I said, raising my mug. "Let's drink to it."

We smacked our mugs together and drank deeply.

"Now, where to start…?" Teresa asked herself aloud, pondering ostentatiously.

"Well, far be it for you to just start anywhere," I said, nodding at her mug. "You may as well start where the story begins."

"Then I shall," she said, and me and Patty leaned in closely so as not to miss a word. The huge din of fights and brawls continued around us, but for a time we were swept into her story as the candlelight wore down and the soft flames flickered.

"My tale begins in the south seas," Teresa said, stirring her ale with the point of her finger.

"_No_," Patty breathed. "You truly went that far?"

"That I did," Teresa replied with a huge smile. "And that was not the farthest I traveled either. Ye see, while I was there, I met with a man of dark hair and dark eyes, whose face was perhaps the loveliest I had ever seen."

Patty's eyebrows rose. I looked to her, but her eyes were riveted to our storyteller.

"I bartered passage onto his ship," Teresa continued, arching one dark eyebrow salaciously. "Of course, I did not have much money, but the man I had met was a captain and we became good friends."

I coughed into my rum.

"I know what ye be thinking, Tori Wendell," she said, waving an accusing finger at me. "But ye would be surprised how far a lass can go on her charms alone."

"Well, for you, maybe," Patty cut in, waving her mug in a wide gesture. Some rum sloshed upon the table. "No man can resist those eyes."

"And other things, I be betting," I said, laughing.

"Aye," Teresa said, looking to me very seriously. "But that man never once touched a hair on my head."

I literally dropped my rum. Patty choked on her own ale. I had to slap the woman's back several times to prevent her choking to death.

"Not while we were at seas, my lassies," Teresa corrected, looking concerned but quite amused.

"Ye could perhaps not mislead us so horribly?" I asked, wiping the ale from my sleeves. I gave Patty one last slap on the back as assurance, and she hiccupped loudly, then cuffed me on the arm.

"I be fine, stop beating me," she said sullenly, and hiccupped yet again.

"Sorry to interrupt your tale," I said to Teresa. "Pray, continue, if Patty here won't choke to death." Patty shot me a deathly glare. "So ye was saying of the captain?"

"Aye, he was quite a man, quite a pirate," Teresa continued with a nod. "And he had the manners of a gentleman…except he knew how to woo, if you catch my meaning."

I took a small sip of my ale. Someone banged into my chair but I barely winced.

"Aye," I said with exaggerated feeling. "We catch the meaning."

"So we traveled to the Orient, as you heard," she went on, "and there we met with goodness knows how many pirates, so brutal, you've never seen the likes of these before, girls, I must say."

"Is it true they all wear silk?" Patty asked eagerly.

Teresa nodded.

"Now that be living," Patty said with awe. I nodded in agreement.

"As for me own story…" Teresa said expectantly, drumming her fingertips on the wooden tabletop.

"Aye!" I said. "Go on!"

"Ah, well we traveled to the Orient and we were on land for a good five days," our dear friend continued, "trading with the local merchants for cannonballs and swords and whatnot." She glanced down, patted her side, and smirked. "Aye, mine hangs here at me side."

Patty leaned over the side of the table to get a peek at it.

"But whilst we were there," Teresa said, leaning over the table, "there was some trouble with one weapons trader, and a fight broke out. I was attacked and gave a bloke or two a good black eye."

Patty and me oneself found ourselves practically on the table, we were listening with such interest.

"But in the end, though I gave up a good fight, I was separated from the captain and his crew in the ruckus. Some men tried to grab me and I was stripped of me weapon—me sword. I gave the good fight, you can bet your ale on it, and sure to God I broke some bones, but in the end I was knocked on the head by some blunt object. The dastardly coward had hit me from behind."

I paused in my sip.

"When I came to, lassies, I was tied up with me hands behind my back, and cloth in me mouth. It seems that the merchants had banded together against me pirate captain and his crew, all because they mistook him for a less than amiable pirate captain known by the name of Barbossa."

The name rang a bell. When it came to me, my eyes widened. "_The_ Captain Barbossa? He be traveling through those waters?"

Teresa nodded at me. "Aye, and more than once. But we be returning back to the story. You see, I was taken prisoner by these madmen, driven to such desperate measures through their own terrible fear. I was unable to free meself from their bonds, and every moment I could feel the rope the brigands had tied me with tightening round me swelling wrists."

"Ooh," Patty said, "And how did you manage to escape?"

"Well," Teresa said, wearing the expression of a cat with the cream, "do ye remember the blacksmith I met, oh, what was it, maybe seven seasons ago?"

"Aye," said Patty. "The one who claimed he was Zeus reincarnate?"

Teresa nodded.

"I always meant to ask you," Patty said. "Did he have reason to call himself that?"

Teresa smiled, the angel and the devil all in one. She reached suddenly and revealed a well-crafted breast-dagger with a green double-handle.

"Aye," Teresa said, sighing. "Ye would think men would figure that it be a good idea to look there when disarming a woman, but no…"

"A pirate would most likely find it by accident," I added, nodding and picking up my mug for a good, long swallow.

"Well, my lassies, I managed to grab the handle with me teeth, and that done I squeezed through me arms tied around me back so I had them in me front, and here I worked at the rope with the dagger in me teeth until finally the twine snapped and broke."

"Clever," Patty said.

"Aye," Teresa replied, looking pleased with herself. "But I did not have much time to congratulate me own thinking, for before I knew what was happening, five stout men came barging into the room and saw me untied. They came forward to tie me up again, but I, using me skills, took hold on the rope that had been hindering me but a few moments ago, and cracked it at them like a driver cracks at a horse."

"Ah, there be a new use for that," I said, smiling into my mug.

"Whilst they be protecting themselves against the lashes, I dropped and rolled past them, stabbing at their feet so as to slow them down. I ran from the room as fast as I could go, and when I hit the street there were men swarming to catch me. I readied me dagger, ready to go down fighting, but it was at that moment that the captain and his crew arrived with new weapons and the fighting spirit.

"We fought back to back, the captain and me, taking down any crazed merchants stupid enough to cross our path. As soon as there be an opening, he grabbed me hand and took off, all retreating back to the ship. The merchants did not follow."

Patty, who had ceased breathed since the beginning of the fighting bit, finally breathed again. "Phew," she said, relaxing.

"Did ye really think she did not get away alive?" I asked, glancing to her.

She stuck her tongue out at me.

" 'ello, beautiful," a pirate said thickly, stumbling and grabbing hold of Teresa's chair. "How does making a shilling tickle ye fancy?"

"Not at all," Teresa replied without interest.

The man was so drunk he did not present any threat, but he attempted to seem intimidating. " 'ow dare ye! I'll have ye anyway."

Despite the fact that he fell over himself reaching for her, Teresa yanked out her breast dagger and observed it's glinting silver with interest.

The pirate stopped, eyes widening.

"Ye be interrupting me story," she said, gesturing to Patty and me. "Isn't he, girls?"

"Aye," Patty and I growled. I slammed my mug down, and Patty followed suit.

"My apologies," the drunken man said, backing away slowly. His eyes never left the dagger. "So sorry—I would never purposefully interrupt a story, be sure of that, missy…"

"Get!" Teresa yelled.

The man turned and stumbled away fast as his drunken legs would carry him.

She snorted, replacing the dagger.

"Well?" I urged. "Continue, woman! I be on the edge of my seat."

"Oh yes," Teresa said, smiling. "Back to the story then.

"When we returned to the ship, we set sail for open ocean. The captain asked me if I had been hurt, and I told him I hadn't, but he still insisted upon looking at a small wound in me shoulder.

" 'Aye,' he said. 'This be a terrible wound.'"

" 'Nay, it be barely a scratch,' I replied. 'How can ye say that?'

" 'Any wound is terrible that mars your beauty,' he said."

"Oooh!" Patty gasped, her hand flying to her heart. "He be a real sweet-talker, that one."

"Aye," Teresa smiled nostalgically, "that he was."

Patty and me exchanged glances. I looked back to Teresa.

"Why does methinks that this man be too good to be true?" I asked shrewdly.

"Ahhh, he was true," Teresa said, leaning forward on the table. She rested her chin in her hands. "He was true as true can be."

Patty and me scooted our chairs closer.

"See as we continued our journey, and the captain—"

"What be this captain's name?" I asked keenly.

"Damien," she said, smirking.

I nodded. Patty went to sip her ale and found she had all but emptied her cup. She turned it upside down and shook the thing, and one drop fell onto the table.

"Well done," I told her.

"Ah, be quiet," she said.

"Oy!" I yelled to the barkeep. "More ale over here!"

Teresa waited patiently until Patty had her mug full again before continuing.

"Sorry," Patty said. "Go on!"

"Aye." Teresa leaned back in her chair. "Damien came to me the following morning and said he had something for me.

" 'What be it?' I asked with some interest. I was, after all, expecting perhaps some payment in proper respects.

"But he replied, 'I had this sword made for you.' And he handed me the blade that now hangs at me side. Well I looked at it in shock and surprise and took it out of its sheath, looking over the beauty of it, and feeling its weight in my hands."

"Sounds very nice," I said, lifting my mug as in a toast.

"Needless to tell you, lassies, it was the most beautiful and expensive thing a man be giving me since this dagger I carry," she went on. "So I gave him a kiss, a proper one, as he deserved it for being such a gentleman, though he be a pirate. And he kissed me back, but not as much as I would have liked.

"So I pulled back and asked him why he be afraid to kiss me, and he replied, 'I do not deserve a lass as lovely as yourself.' I ran me fingers through his dark, long, tousled hair and told him he was being ridiculous and to kiss me. And he gave me a kiss, deep and passionate and warm, that I will remember until I die."

"Aye!" I said, clapping. "Now there be a good end to a story!"

"Aye," Teresa said sadly, "except that's not the end."

"This is going to get sad, isn't it?" Patty asked with an expression of concern.

"Just listen," was the answer.

"You see, I slept each night on the deck. I did not sleep in the captain's cabin for obvious reasons—the crew would get jealous, and though there was the pirate's code of not mutinying against the captain lest he do something terribly stupid, Damien did not trust all his mates. He had good reason not to; aye, there be some nasty men aboard that ship.

"Some weeks passed on the rough seas, and we hit bad weather, stormy waters and rain that nearly tipped the ship right over several times, and so they came to grumbling that I was bringing them all sorts of bad luck. Not all thought so, but a good number did.

"They probably would have tried to pick me up and throw me overboard had the seas not calmed right when they did. From then on it was naught but sunshine, and so the crew got round to apologizing to me and some were saying I was good luck and had brought them through the storms.

"Well the captain and me had had our moment, but we never did more than that kiss," Teresa went on. "Then one day he came up to me as I was looking out at the water and asked me, 'Did ye ever sail in a ship before?'

" 'Aye,' I replied. 'Many times, and sometimes with my friends with me, no less.'

" 'I love my ship,' he said. 'But I wonder how I could settle then.'

"By now I had guessed what he was speaking of. 'Maybe you will meet a lass who stays with you on the seas,' I said, not looking at him.

"He turned to me and said, 'Would you?'

"Well I was astonished, and pleased as anything he had finally worked up the courage to ask me. It was about high time, I think, that we acknowledged he loved me and I him."

"Ah, true love," I said, and this time, my voice was just a little slurred. "There be something. I told you one day you'd find it."

"Aye," Teresa said. "That I did. I told him yes, of course I would; he would be free to sail the seas, as long as I was free to go on land when I wished."

"So that is how you came to see us," Patty said.

Teresa didn't speak for a moment, and then she turned her eyes onto Patty. "Nay, my lassie, it is not how I came by to see you."

I leaned over the table. "What happened?"

Teresa took a small sip from her mug, and then continued her tale with her eyes falling to the table.

"Aye, by sundown the next day the crew had turned on him. Those that stood with him were slaughtered like animals. It had started with one rowdy pirate who had evil in his eyes, and for ye to see that in one's eyes, ye can only imagine it consumed his soul.

"Ye can guess, before all of this I was bothered day and night by pirates eager to take a bite out of me, if you get me drift. Left and right I had men staring at me as though they envisioned me without me dress on. One of them tried to pinch me bottom but I grabbed his wrist and threatened to remove him from the agony of having two hands, and he never bothered me again.

"But I mean to talk of the older, evil man, the one who would stand by the mast and watch me with eyes of dark thoughts and murderous longing. And yet I knew when he looked at me he did not wish to have me so much as to make me want him and then leave me. You know, lassies; we have learned to foresee these desires in men, or else we would not have survived the years.

"Well day and night he would be there, sometimes to rig up the mast, sometimes just to stand and observe those around him. And that night after the captain asked me to stay with him, while I stood by the rail and just stood, allowing the cool salty sea breeze to glide through me hair, the man walked over to me and leaned next to me.

" 'So ye loves the captain,' he said. 'A very foolish thing, love—like tossing ye heart out amongst the waves for the sharks to feast upon.'

"At first I said nothing, but when I heard this last I replied, not looking at him, 'And what would ye know of love?'

" 'You would be surprised,' he said, and I jerked, for he had used 'you' and not 'ye,' like a proper Englishman. 'There be many ways to love a person, and you, my bonny lass, do not know them by half. You're a wench.'"

"How dare he!" Patty asked in shock.

"Aye," I said. "Ignore her and go on with ye tale."

"Well I turned to him and struck him in the mouth with a blow that left him bleeding. He stumbled back and stared at me, and when he touched his lips and pulled his hand away bloody he glared at me with eyes of the devil himself.

" 'You've made a grievous error,' he hissed. 'And make no mistake I will see that you suffer for it."

" 'I would not try,' I snarled back at him.

" 'What, will you tell the captain to throw me off the plank?' he asked with a sneer.

" 'Nay,' I said, 'I shall run you through before you knew what it is that hit you.'

"He watched me in silence for a good few minutes, and then walked up to me, and I was ready to reach for my sword, but he stopped right before me.

" 'Then I shall be sure to take the fight from ye,' he said, composed yet again.

"When he walked off I be left with a bad feeling, one of foreboding, and I warned Damien that it be likely there be problems and soon."

She paused in her story, and Patty and me both stared at her. When she did not speak for another minute, I yelled, "For God's sake, woman, what happened?"

"Aye," Patty asked urgently. "What did he do?"

"Overnight he had rallied the crew against the captain, saying he was hoarding treasure to himself, and grown soft by seduction of an evil woman—that be I. Not all followed this evil pirate, and soon fighting broke out and the men who supported the captain went down, being outnumbered. I had me own hand in the fight as well, but five men attacked me at once and separated me from me sword. I managed a few bloody faces, but they overpowered me and lashed together me hands with rope—always that damn rope!

"While I stood there, powerless to help me captain Damien, the evil man stepped up to me and said, 'I told you I would take vengeance.'

"I spat in his face, and he backhanded me, so I attempted to kick him and got him in the stomach rather hard, but he got his wind back and turned to the captain. They had managed to overpower Damien only with the sheer rank of their numbers. He was bound and gagged only a body's length from me oneself. He saw the man's violence upon me and he struggled to break free; somehow with his anger he managed to break the bonds that held him and he attacked the evil man, with naught but bare hands."

She stopped again. No one breathed.

"It was his death. The man took my sword from the deck and in a swift movement I could not follow he held the blade out and allowed Damien's own speed to impale him upon the sword.

"He fell, dead. And something happened then, because I could feel nothing. My hands were tied behind me, but suddenly the pain did not matter and I broke the bonds, slicing my flesh and cutting near to bone. I ran to Damien's fallen body but he was breathing no longer. I took him in my arms and held him to me, not crying because I could not cry.

"There was a deathly silence like one can only hear in a grave. I placed a soft kiss on Damien's cheek, then stood and turned.

" 'What be ye name, besides devil?' I asked the man in a voice as flat as earth.

"After he answered, I drew my dagger from the place it be hidden and ran him through, as I had promised to do. His body jerked, then slumped against me, and I stepped back, so as to stop his corpse touching me. And he fell to the ground dead as Damien.

"The mutinous crew did nothing. I turned on them with the dagger, and stooped and retrieved me sword, stained with Damien's blood.

" 'Ye be next,' I said, pointing the blade at each of them in turn.

" 'Please,' said one of the pirates. 'We did not mean to kill the captain.'

" 'Aye,' said another then, and a good many others chorused him. 'We were told he would be given a raft, and that ye and he could leave. We weren't going to kill the captain. That was _his _idea.' He nodded at the evil man's fallen body.

"I stared at them for the longest time and in me own head I was decided whether or not to let them live or die by me blade. They had earned it, there was no doubt in me mind, but I was on a ship, and a ship that needed be crewed by more than one."

" 'Rig up the mast,' I said finally. 'And clean the deck of blood. I want this ship ready to sail by dawn.'

"I moved past them, and there was naught but one sound behind me. A man asked, 'What of the bodies, captain?'

"I turned and looked at all of these men, and knew they would not challenge me. Not yet, as it be.

" 'Wrap them,' I said. 'We give them a proper sea burial. Except that one. Throw him into the sea.'"

"Aye, that is how I came to be in the Caribbean a few short moons later, but that, my lassies," Teresa said, sitting back, "is a tale for another time."

Drunken brawls continued in the pub all around us, and but I barely heard the din. It seemed the same with Patty, for she looked at Teresa with an expression of utter sadness.

"I can't believe that happened to you," she said, rising from her seat and skirting around the table. She flung her arms around Teresa and embraced her with all her might. I rose too as well and followed suit, so our good friend, nay sister, could weep a few tears for her fallen lover without the eyes of the rest of the world staring at her sad but beautiful face.

"I be so sorry," I whispered to her, patting her back gently. Patty tightened her hold and nodded. "We had no idea what hell you'd been trudging through."

Teresa cried a little, and we held her. To other drunks in the pub it probably resembled an emotional breakdown after too much ale, but this went so much deeper.

After a bit, Teresa raised her head from Patty's shoulder and said, "Aye, don't worry bout me. Ye have ye own troubles."

"Aye, that be true, but they be not of that magnitude," I replied.

I released her slowly, but Patty continued with gripping our friend. She gave one final squeeze and Teresa actually smiled, but there was no devil or angel on her lips this time.

"Don't worry bout it," Patty said, finally letting her go. "Ye be home now."

"Aye," Teresa said, and her voice did not hold as much sorrow as before. "That I am, lassies."

Patty beamed an encouraging smile, then looked down upon Teresa's mug.

"This be bloody empty!" she said, grabbing the mug violently from the table. "Ye need more ale. Oy, barkeep!" She rushed off to get Teresa more drink.

I slid into the chair beside my friend and whispered, "It'll be all right. Time will heal all your wounds."

She looked to me and I knew when those eyes met mine time could no more heal this wound than it could bring Damien back. I marveled at my foolishness for having missed the pain in her eyes before.

"That man," I said, sidling closer. "Ye said ye asked his name before ye killed him."

"Aye," she said quietly, resting her head on her hand. "I wanted to know it so I could curse him for all eternity."

I leaned forward. "And what was his name?"

She closed her eyes and breathed once, and then she looked to me and replied, "His name was Edward Norrington."

And it came to me so suddenly that I awoke.

v…………..v………………v………………..v……………….v…….…….v……………v

My eyes shot open. Norrington sat at his desk, writing by the light that flickered from the two small candles perched precariously near the edges. It was night and black out of the window, and so I must have slept soundly through the day with naught but my memories.

"Your father," I said. "Was his name Edward Norrington?"

Norrington froze. He went so still that the tip of his feather quill quivered only from his breathing.

"It was, wasn't it?" I pushed. "My friend knew a man by the name of Edward Norrington…an older man. He was your father, wasn't he? He was a pirate."

Norrington stood and stared at me for a time that seemed to allow the candles to melt down to stubs. His eyes were as intense as I had ever seen them; his green eyes…

"My father," he said very deliberately, "was _not_ a _pirate_."

The man was lying, I was sure of it. He left the room then. I watched after him and it was as though a lantern had been lit, and for the first time I saw Norrington for what he was.

He was like me.


End file.
